Close Only Counts in Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
Reflecting on my experience at Digital Graffiti

Last week I returned home from Digital Graffiti, the projection festival in Alys Beach, Florida. The whole story could fill multiple newsletters, so to keep things short, I’ll stick to the highlights.
THE ACCOMMODATIONS
In lieu of a stipend for participation, artists are given the option of complimentary housing in local vacation rentals. There’s also free food at 3 events—the awards party Friday evening, a brunch and panel discussion on Saturday morning, and a closing party Saturday evening. (Hors d’oeuvres mostly, except for brunch.)

My housing arrangement was with two other artists, both of whom brought guests. There were enough bedrooms for everyone, each with an adjoining bathroom, so there was no awkwardness with timing showers and whatnot. (If you’re curious about the inside of the house, you can click on the link above!)

THE BEACH
Since it’s mostly a vacation area, there’s not much to do other than go to the beach, shop, or eat. The beach is private, and to enter you need a wristband that is provided when you check into the housing. While they don’t police where you are in the water or on the shore, you can only set your towel or umbrella in the section designated for your property. (I learned this because I found a nice open spot away from the noisy crowd and was promptly told to move.)



I tried to make the best of it and stood in the ocean for a while, admiring how clear the water was. A gentleman who noticed I was hunting for shells gifted one to me from the pile that he had collected, saying that it was a good one. I agreed.


THE FESTIVAL
***There were 5 awards: Best in Show ($5000), Curator’s Choice ($2000), and 3 Recognition Awards ($1000 each)***
I was welcomed by a familiar challenge that I haven’t felt for a decade: wanting to be a spectator while simultaneously being a participant. Unlike an art fair where you need to be in your booth, there was no requirement to stand by my projection. Still, I felt I should be available for anyone who might have questions. Friday night was quieter than I expected, so I chose to walk most of the event and check in on my work periodically. On Saturday, since the crowd was much larger, I quickly visited the work I had missed on Friday and then stayed by my piece for the rest of the evening.
Although I didn't win an award, two of the seven judges individually approached me on Friday while I was standing by my work and told me there had been a heavy debate about my piece. Each also said that they had advocated for me to win. On Saturday, the curator (who was also a judge) stopped to tell me how enthusiastic he was about my piece, and we had a lengthy chat about free speech.
During brunch, there was a panel discussion which included 2 judges I hadn’t previously spoken with. One of them, a placemaking consultant and poet, said my projection was like walking through a poem. I went up to the stage afterward to thank them for the kind words and they told me that they loved my piece and had really wanted me to win, but couldn’t share any details about the judging (though I hadn’t asked for any).

The combination of conversations sparked memories of participating in the Saint Paul Winter Carnival Medallion Hunt. Every year in January, a medallion worth $10,000 is hidden inside an object in a Ramsey County park. Clues are published in the local newspaper every day for 12 days or until it’s found, whichever comes first. Every hunter knows the tiny sting of hearing that it’s been found, but it’s particularly painful when the location is revealed to be only a short distance away from where you had been searching.
I went into Digital Graffiti not expecting an award and could have left feeling fine about not receiving one. However, being repeatedly complimented and told that I was so close to winning sullied the whole experience. The feeling of falling short in an intangible way kept sneaking in and overshadowing the accolades I received from the audience.
I had many good conversations with former Minnesotans and people connected to Minnesota. Multiple people thanked me; a few said mine was their favorite piece. The longest conversations were with a group of students from Indiana University, one of whom chose to interview me for a class assignment. They commended my bravery in submitting my work to an event in a predominantly conservative area.
Overall, I’m glad I went. I tested the festival waters, so to speak, learned a lot, and have much to consider.
I brought along a tripod so I could get a video, and you can watch it on YouTube by clicking on the image below.
SO WHAT’S NEXT?
Leaving Florida, I was energized about the idea of transforming this piece from a single projection into an indoor installation with multiple projections on various surfaces, making it more immersive. I envisioned touring it and partnering with blue-dot locations in red states to spark community dialogue. However, that enthusiasm faded when I realized that it’s possible that I didn’t win an award because the judges were hesitant about giving sponsorship money to a piece that could be seen as political. I disagree, but understand that’s how the system works. So for now I’m shelving the idea and focusing on my own survival (meaning finding work that will pay me).
I have some thoughts about other ways to move forward, but I’m going to hold on to them until I get a chance to experiment. I have a sense that when I share ideas before I’ve developed them fully, I tend to set high expectations for myself which creates a lot of negative internal chatter. That’s not to say that things have to be perfect before I share them, I simply think that I could benefit from a bit more discernment.
Instead I’ll leave you with this gem of me at the Digital Graffiti awards party. It’s beyond me why the photographer chose to include it, but I think it’s hilarious. (To clarify, the event photos are all group photos, it’s not like they were going around taking candid photos of every artist individually and this is the one they got of me.)

As always, thank you so much for being here!
Until the next newsletter, be well!
Giesla
If you’re able and would like to help support my work financially, click the button below to make a donation! Any support I receive goes directly toward purchasing the tools I need as well as living expenses.
If you feel more comfortable giving to me directly, my Venmo is @giesla and CashApp is $giesla.
Thanks so much for your consideration!
DONATE NOW!
Add a comment: